


To Pluto and Back

by tifryb



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Band Fic, Denial, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:41:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifryb/pseuds/tifryb
Summary: "Open Mic Night at West Ocean Nightclub!"He read the details of the flyer and took a screenshot, reminding himself to show Callahan and Wilbur once he gets there.Little did George know, he would meet four people that would change his life, and not necessarily for the better.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 2





	1. Pluto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little warning: this is my first story and im doing it all on my phone so sorry if theres any typos or errors just lmk! thank u enjoy the story :))

He woke up annoyed for a reason he couldn't quite comprehend yet. He groggily opened his eyes and focused his ears. He realized it was a phone ringing. His phone.

He groaned at the sound, and hesitated, debating whether or not to ignore the call and go back to sleep, before lifting up his chest and reaching for his phone. He glared at the number, not recognizing it, but still tapped the round green button.

"Hello?" he questioned.

"OH MY GOSH DREAM YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS! JUST NOW HE TEXTED ME SAYING THAT HE-"

"What-?" He repeated in response to the unfamiliar voice and name, talking over what the stranger had to say.

"-DREAM DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?? HE- wait... Dream did you age backwards or something?" the caller asked, confused as to why his friend's voice was higher.

George paused "...No? I don't think you have the right number."

"Wait, I just said that to a complete stranger, didn't I... oh no no no no. Well fuck, anyway stranger, since you already know my deepest darkest secret, my name is Nick but everyone calls me Sapnap, nice to meet you."

"Hi? I'm George, and it's nice to meet you too, I guess." He was finally starting to wake up after the yelling starting making his ears ring.

"You sound a little familiar, have we met before?" Sapnap said, pausing a little before continuing. "Oh well whatever, everyone sounds familiar to me."

George chuckled in response. He realized a while ago his voice was recognizable when a fan of his band ran into him at a coffee shop drive-through.

"Welp, I gotta go Gogy, I have a train to catch in twenty minutes, hope I'll mistake your number for Dream's again."

Sapnap hung up before George could respond to either the new nickname, or the fact he would want to talk again. George dismissed the whole call, figuring that its unlikely that he would reach out to him after today, and stood up. He walked to the kitchen and started making breakfast.

He grabbed a box of Honey Nut Cheerios and poured some into a plastic bowl. George grabbed a carton of milk and covered the rest of his cereal.

He quickly ate, despite being awake 30 minutes earlier than usual, and then texted his band mates.

**[da big** **P** **s]**

 _george:_ r we still practicing today

 _callahan:_ idk im down ask will

 _wilbah:_ yea! my place at 1:45

 _george:_ ok nice

George turned off his phone and took a shower. He changed into a blue supreme sweater with a white button-up underneath. He checked the time and noticed he still had an hour left before he had to leave for Wilbur's, which was a good 20 minutes away.

He took advantage of the time and turned on his PC. He opened GarageBand and continued editing the last minute and a half of their newest song. George was always very specific with how the editing was, so once he got done isolating and editing his vocals for the first half of the song, 45 minutes had passed.

Instead of working for another 15 minutes, he decided to spend the remaining time on Twitter. After scrolling past other musicians' and artists' tweets, a poster caught his eye. 

"Open Mic Night at West Ocean Nightclub!"

He read the details of the flyer and took a screenshot, reminding himself to show Callahan and Wilbur once he gets there.

•••  
  


George finally arrives at Wilbur's house and they head to his garage.

"Hey George!" Wilbur says at a slightly louder tone than George was expecting.

George flinches slightly, then replies after regaining himself. "Hi Will! Do you know when Callahan is getting here?"

"He said he got caught in traffic so it'll be a few"

"Oh hey Will, since we have a little bit of time, I saw a flyer for an open mic at the club down a few blocks, should we check it out?"

"Hm, maybe, we'll have to talk about it more when Callahan gets here."

George nods in understanding and helps Wilbur set up his amp and does a quick sound check.

Callahan makes it to Wilbur's 10 minutes later and starts setting up his drums.

"Hey Callahan, look what George showed me." Wilbur showed him his phone and asked if Callahan would be down to play.

Callahan shrugged as if to say "why not" and the trio decided to spend the day choosing what to play for that Saturday, as it was already the middle of the week.

•••  
  


"We did good today boys," Wilbur said as George and Callahan were walking outside, getting ready to drive back home.

George smiled, "Don't forget to practice the song, we need to be perfect."

George waved goodbye to Callahan and Wilbur and got in his car. It was late so he decided to pick up dinner on his way home. He got home and finally checked his phone for the first time since he showed Will the flyer.

He immediately noticed a missed call and 3 texts.

**Nick/Sapnap**

_Hey! Sorry I called but I just wanted to know if you would wanna see my band play at West Ocean this weekend?_

_I'm assuming you live nearby because of the area code_

_Anyway, just text me back to let me know if you can make it or not! This is Sapnap btw_

George had to double take on the text.

He read it twice. 3 times. 4 times.

He wasn't sure if he was reading it right.

Sapnap was in a band.

And that band is also playing at West Ocean on Saturday.

George replied cautiously.

_Oh, actually I'm kind of busy that day :( I'll let you know if my plans change though. Sorry I couldn't make it._

He only decided to lie so Sapnap wouldn't find out he's playing that day too, although he would find out sooner or later. Guess he'd rather it be later.

•••  
  


Saturday arrived.

And a lot faster than George expected.

He's spent the past 2 days singing his lines over and over in his soundproofed room, struggling to hit the right notes. He finally got his vocal chords to ring the right way, but he was still nervous.

He ate his usual breakfast and showered, although this time changing into a maroon corduroy sweater over his button-up and black ripped jeans.

He texted Callahan and Wilbur to see if they were doing alright.

**[da big Ps]**

_george:_ you guys ready?

 _wilbah:_ ready enough 

_callahan:_ will did u finally get that one chord to sound right?

 _wilbah:_ yea my tuning was just weird

 _george:_ so we're good?

 _callahan:_ mhm

George grabbed two water bottles and began his drive to the club. He hummed the song they were planning to play on his drive over and pulled in to the backstage parking. He caught sight of Wilbur's car and parked next to him. Wilbur ended up giving Callahan a drive, so his van ended up a little more crowded than usual.

The trio unloaded the van, and teased Callahan by pretending to drop the drums, laughing at the way he would glare at them.

Once their instruments were on the pavement, George heard a familiar voice.

He turned his head and saw the face that belonged to Sapnap's voice. He had a stubbly beard and had a white headband tied around his head. He sported a white flame T-shirt over a black long sleeve and a wide smile. He was talking to someone, but they were turned around. 

Sapnap noticed George staring, but didn't know who he was, so he politely waved. The stranger talking to Sapnap turned around in confusion and made eye contact with George.

His heart might've actually skipped a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo whats up with george oooo


	2. The Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> irl sapnap now!! not just screaming over the phone!! also pls let me know if there are any errors :3

A moment passed.

His friend's yellow, probably green, eyes drew him in and didn't let him go. The freckles on his light skin barely showed in the yellow lighting. The confused look in his eyebrows and slightly downturned frown made him blush. He was practically thanking the gods that they met closer to sunset, his face blinded by the golden hour.

Wilbur noticed George was staring at the man wearing a lime green hoodie, so he bumped him on the elbow to take him back to Earth.

The sudden motion startled him, nearly making him jump out of his shoes.

"Wilbur!" He yelled. "What was that for!"

"I don't know! You seemed out of it!" replied Wilbur.

"You didn't have to push me so hard! I nearly fell over!"

"I barely touched you! And you're literally 5'8", you're the size of a child!"

Sapnap's gears were quite literally turning, and suddenly he realized that the voice that was yelling at "Wilbur" was George.

"HI GOGY!" Sapnap yelled from the other side of the small parking lot.

George was still yelling at Wilbur for almost shoving him onto the pavement, so he could barely hear Sapnap.

"You're George, right?" Sapnap asked in a slightly quieter and more concerned voice, but still yelling quite loudly.

George realized someone had said his name, so he took his finger out of Wilbur's face and turned in the direction of the voice.

After a second of scanning to find out who could've possibly called for him, he saw Sapnap waving excitedly at him.

Sapnap noticed that George had noticed him and walked over to Wilbur's van, dragging his friend by the wrist.

"Hi Sapnap," George said shyly.

"Hi Gogy! I didn't expect to see you here, let alone in the backstage parking lot." Sapnap mentioned, with a hint of confusion in his voice.

Sapnap looked at Callahan and Wilbur, and then at the guitar case and drum set on the pavement, and finally back at the trio.

He connected the dots.

"OH! YOU'RE ALSO PREFORMING!" Sapnap exclaimed, "THAT'S SO COOL!"

George nervously laughed, "Haha, yea.. sorry about lying to you and saying I couldn't see you."

"What's he talking about, George?" Wilbur asked as he tapped his shoulder, reminding him of their presence.

"Oh! Wilbur and Callahan, this is Nick, or Sapnap. Sapnap, this is Wilbur and Callahan," he said, pointing to the respective people. "Sapnap called me on accident earlier this week and asked me if I could see his band perform here today."

"Oh, that explains it a bit," Wilbur says.

"So Sapnap, who's this?" George questions.

"Yea, this is the Dream I thought you were! He's the drummer in our band, we've known each other since we were kids."

"That's really cool!" George replied, hoping that they would forget about his one-sided staring contest.

Dream finally spoke.

"Hey, I'm Clay, but call me Dream." He reached his hand out and offered to shake the band's hands.

George hesitantly shook Dreams hand, and stepped aside to make way for Wilbur and Callahan.

"Oh and about Callahan, he doesn't talk much to strangers," Wilbur added in as Dream and Callahan greeted each other.

Dream smiled at the trio and stepped back to the side of Sapnap.

Suddenly, a pair of voices were calling for Sapnap and Dream, one of them oddly calling Sapnap their fiancé, and the other calling him "mi amor".

Sapnap gasped and smiled, whipping his head to look behind him. "Yes! They're here!" He ran over to them and practically toppled them over with his hug. 

"Dude, chill Sapnap, we literally saw you yesterday," said the shorter friend with an LAFD beanie.

"Yea man, it hasn't even been 24 hours," added the other, wearing an oversized sweater.

Sapnap quickly caught up with the new faces and led them to the trio, bringing the number of people surrounding Wilbur's van up to 7.

"Guys, this is Alex," he pointed at the beanie-dawning man, "and this is Karl," gesturing to the other man with a giddy smile on his face.

Alex introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Alex, you can call me Quackity, though."

"Hi! I'm Karl!" said the other.

At that point, George had been looking up at everyone else, so he's glad that Quackity is closer to his height.

"Hi Quackity, Hi Karl, I'm George," he replied.

"Oh, and since the band's all here, I guess I'll introduce us," Sapnap mentioned.

"We're The Suvivors! I'm the singer, Quackity's our guitar, Karl's our bass, and Dream's on drums!"

"We don't have much of our own songs, but we do a bunch of covers," Dream added.

Wilbur talked for the first time in a while.

"I think I've heard of you guys before, our trio's called Pluto, George sings, I play guitar, and Callahan plays drums."

"THAT'S WHERE I RECOGNIZED YOU FROM!" shouted Sapnap, as he was still trying to remember where he heard George's voice before.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't realize earlier, as me and Will are two of very few British people in the area," George exhaled.

Callahan tapped George and Wilbur on the shoulders, then pointed at his wrist.

"Oh shit-"

"What? What time is it George?" Wilbur questioned.

"Its 6:45, we have 15 minutes before the event starts."

Callahan rolled his eyes as the rest of the group began to panic, including the Survivors.

Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl ran back to their cars and Callahan and Wilbur took their instrument cases inside the club, leaving Dream and George in the middle of an empty parking space.

"Don't you have a drum kit to set up or something?" George asked Dream.

"Nah, this venue only uses one drum kit and Callahan seems to have it taken care of," he replied.

"Oh..."

"Guess I should probably help Sapnap though, Quackity always messes with the mic and puts this stupid auto-tune on it. See you around, George." Dream gave George a two-finger salute and walked over to Sapnap's car.

George stood there for another minute before realizing that he should go, too.

He quickly asked the nearest employee where the closest bathroom was and ran. He locked himself in a bathroom stall and fell to his knees.

He's glad he was able to keep himself composed until then.

 _Why did I react like that? Why did I keep staring at him? Why did I_ feel _like that? I couldn't have gotten flustered, could I? I didn't think he was cute or anything? Did I?_

_I'm not gay, am I?_

_I'm not gay. I can't be._

_I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay._

He repeated it over and over, quietly whispering it to himself, engraining it into his brain. He couldn't look at Dream and feel his face get warmer. He couldn't think about Dream and get fidgety. He couldn't _like_ Dream.

He didn't even realize he began crying. He didn't even realize he started hyperventilating. 

He began to spiral, falling into an endless pit of questioning himself and everything that's ever happened to him. Why he's never felt right whenever he was with a girl. Why he always pried his eyes away from male underwear models on billboards. And in the middle of all that confusion, Dream was always the center of it.

Suddenly, a knock was heard from the other side of the stall door.

"George? Are you in there?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> george is currently having a crisis, try again later


	3. Wilbur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has a talk with Wilbur

“George? Are you in there?”

George stood up and wiped a tear from his eye. “Y-yea, who is it?”

“Wilbur, are you okay?”

“Mhm, just getting a little nervous.”

“Can you open the door?”

George nodded, despite Wilbur being unable to see him. He slowly slid the cold lock open, and pulled the door open.

George sniffled, and Wilbur immediately gave him a hug. He knew that his friend’s red cheeks were from more than just nerves. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Y-yea, just give me a sec, I-I'll meet you in the parking lot.”

Wilbur gave him one last squeeze and walked out of the bathroom, heading for the back door.

George sighed and walked out of the stuffy stall. He dragged himself to the other side of the room and leaned over the sink. He looked himself in the mirror and cringed. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his cheeks were rosy and tear-stained, and the ends of his sleeves were soggy.

He turned on the cold water and cupped his hands. He brought up a small amount of water and splashed his face. He blindly reached for the paper towel dispenser and grabbed the rough, cardboard-like paper. He dried his face to the best of his abilities and looked at himself again. He felt as if he could throw up.

He was disgusted with himself.

Despite wanting to crawl into a 10-feet deep hole and light himself on fire, he headed for the exit. As he opened the door, he ran into the first person to walk into the bathroom in 10 minutes.

“Excuse me, sorry,” muttered George as he shuffled past the stranger.

He beelined straight for the parking lot and stepped outside. He took a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck in a nightclub bathroom, despite being there on his own accord. He looked around and finally saw his 6’5” friend leaning against his car. 

“Hey Will,” George called out as he finally got closer.

“Hey George, are you okay?” Wilbur asked.

“Yea, just a little stressed about everything, that’s all.”

“Are you sure there's nothing you can tell me about?”

“Mhm, I just got overwhelmed.”

“So nothing about me or Callahan?” Wilbur questioned. “Nothing about the boys? Sapnap? Dream?”

George’s cheeks reddened at the sound of his name.

“Phew,” Wilbur exhaled. “I thought someone was being rude to you, I would've fucked them up so badly. Thank heavens it’s only a little crush on Dweamy-weamy,” he teased.

George shoved Wilbur as hard as he could. “What the hell Will?! I don’t have a fucking crush on Dream!”

“Deny it as much as you want, but you definitely just got suuuuper red.”

“Why would I have a crush on a person I just met?! Let alone a dude? I’m not fucking gay!”

Wilbur paused and raised an eyebrow. “You're not?”

George’s jaw dropped. “No I’m not fucking gay! Did you actually think I was gay?! We’ve known each other for almost 3 years and you thought I was gay this whole time?! What the fuck dude?!”

“Geez, George, calm down. Even if you aren't gay, there’s not anything wrong if you are.”

“Yes there is! It’s not natural! It's not normal!”

Wilbur opened his mouth as if he was going to respond, but stayed silent. He furrowed his brow.

“I can’t do this with you right now, George. We have a show to play.” Wilbur turned away and headed towards the door.

“W-Will, wait please-”

Wilbur’s head whipped behind him to snap back at George, “Don’t call me that.”

George was silenced by his friend’s volume and the shutting of the heavy door. He sighed and slumped against the wall, dragging his back down until he sat on the pavement. As the sky got darker, the neon lights above him lit up. The sign began lighting the cold ground a soft blend of purples and blues as another car sped into the parking lot. George stayed seated, soaking up as much silence and calmness as he could until he heard the first band start playing. The loud bass shook him, feeling the beat in his lungs. He finally gained the energy to lift himself up and walked back inside, planning his apology to Wilbur as he traveled.

He walked backstage and saw Wilbur talking to Quackity, Dream teaching Callahan how to spin his drumsticks in a new way, and Karl and Sapnap video calling a girl named Corinna. Wilbur turned his head for a split second to see who walked in, and ignored him, as if the door simply opened by a breeze. Seeing his reaction, George decided to explain himself digitally.

George sat on the foldable chair closest to the door, not finding the willpower to walk further than he needed to. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it, swiping on his screen to find the lime green app he was looking for.

_The same color as Dream’s hoodie._

His subconscious was betraying him. Despite Dream being the source of his and Wilbur’s current conflict, he was still the first thing on his mind.

_What if he heard us? Did he know I was in the bathroom? Will he be mad at me?_

_Wait. Why am I asking if he would be mad? He’s not gay and we’ve talked once, I doubt he would want to see me more than necessary. Nevermind him, I need to talk to Wilbur._

George opened his 3rd most recent message and typed a lengthy message.

_“wilbur please i know what i said sounds wrong but please let me explain myself. ur probably gonna ignore this but please listen. im sorry for what i said. im just having a rough time right now and please im so sorry for yelling at you and pushing you. im not asking for forgiveness just i need to tell you. im not homophobic, its just i cant be gay, i cant have a crush on dream. i cant. my parents would kill me. since i was a kid theyve said that being gay was a sin and that if i was gay id be going to hell and i cant go to hell wilbur i cant. im sorry wilbur. and i completely understand if we cant be friends anymore after this.”_

George hovered his finger over the daunting arrow. He started tearing up and his eyebrows were squeezing together. His eyes were burning holes into the glass screen, rereading the text over and over again, rewriting each sentence at least 3 times to make sure it sounded as genuine as possible. He was rubbing his thumb on the side of his phone case, debating whether or not he should send the message or talk to Wilbur after the show.

Before he could make a decision, a familiar voice spoke up. George jumped and looked up at who was standing over him. Karl was leaning over him with a concerned expression on his face.

“Hey George, are you okay? I saw you coming out of the bathroom earlier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still trying to see how long i want each chapter to be so sorry if this one is too long or too short, just lmk :)


	4. Kill the Director

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pluto preforms

“Hey George, are you okay? I saw you coming out of the bathroom earlier.”

George nearly dropped his phone as Karl’s sudden voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, I guess that was you I bumped into, sorry about that,” he replied with a soft smile on his face.

“No, no, no, don’t worry about that, I’m wondering if you’re alright. I saw you…” he paused and looked around before leaning closer to whisper in George’s ear. “crying,” he finished.

George’s breath hitched as he realized he wasn't as good as hiding things as he thought for the second time that night. He had already talked seriously enough that day, so he rapidly shook his head to signify that now wasn’t the time. He hoped Karl got his message.

“Oh, yea, no, it’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it, we just met after all.” Karl beamed a toothy smile at his seated friend. “And let me see your phone, I want to give you my number if you ever need someone to rant to.”

George loosened his grip on his phone and held it out for Karl to take. Unbeknownst to him, he still had his texts open.

More specifically, to his text to Wilbur.

Karl’s eyes widened for a split second as he began reading halfway through the message, but quickly exited the app before he read more than he wanted to. He chuckled to hide his shock, and typed his number into a new contact labeled “karl jacobs 🪐”.

“I don’t know if you put emojis into contact names, but I just did!” He handed the phone back to its owner. “See you around!” He turned and walked back to Sapnap sitting on the floor of the other side of the room.

George takes the phone back, and scrolls through his Twitter feed, passing the time and listening to the other bands play.

  * ••



In the middle of reading an ironic thread of why Montana isn’t real, his phone sends out a chime and a text notification drops from the top of his screen. “ **wilbah to [da big Ps]:** We’re after this next band. We need to get ready.”

A few seconds later, another notification appears. From Wilbur. “ **wilbah:** Call me when you get home later.”

George looks up to see Wilbur putting his phone down on a table and grabbing his guitar from its case and Callahan waving goodbye to Dream. Wilbur and Callahan walked towards the door and George rose from his chair and followed close behind.

Callahan nudged George in the arm and pointed at Wilbur with his opposite hand and gave him a confused look, wondering why the two weren’t doing their usual banter. George simply frowned and looked down in response, never giving him a solid answer. Callahan tsked and walked closer to the side of Wilbur than behind him.

As the previous band finished their song and the trio walked on the side of the audience hidden behind a curtain and stood barely offstage in a row, George’s palms began to sweat and his mouth got dry. His legs felt restless, he was stepping side to side, trying to calm himself. Wilbur glanced to his right and reluctantly walked back to the room where the other band was waiting. 

“Drink.” He muttered as he held out a water bottle and handed it to his bandmate. 

George grabbed the bottle and nodded before chugging half of it in one gulp, the two never making eye contact.

“And that was Wither Skulls everyone!” Shouted the pink-haired announcer from the stage. “Next up we have Pluto singing a cover of ‘Kill the Director’ by The Wombats!”

George tugged on his maroon sleeve and walked up the stage after the others. Callahan took a comfortable spot at the drums, and Wilbur plugged in his guitar. George walked up to the mic in the center of the stage and grabbed it with both of his hands. He looked to the side and nodded to the sound director to start the backing track.

Callahan started playing first, setting a steady beat for the rest of the song, and Wilbur joined in soon after. George started swaying and tapping his foot to the beat, and finally began to sing.

“I've met someone that makes me feel seasick,

Oh, what a skill to have,

Oh, what a skill to have,

So many skills that make her distinctive,

But they're not mine to have,

No they're not mine,”

He sang the next three verses perfectly, even getting the audience to dance and sing along a little bit.

Once he got to the second to last part of the song, George closed his eyes for a second and sang,

“Here's another song about a gender I'll never understand…”

He opened his eyes and stared into the audience. He glanced over the eyes of everyone standing in the crowded room. The blue-green eyes his subconscious was looking for were no longer lost, but George didn’t find them. Dream was standing near the back, close to the door, smiling at his glowing phone.

George immediately clammed up and stared at the blond. He quickly snapped back into reality, glad that he only missed one line or two before getting back into the song.

“If this is a rom-com, kill the director, please,”

He began the final chant of the song with Wilbur as his background vocals. 

“This is no Bridget Jones,

This is no Bridget, Bridget Jones…””

The final line of the song faded out, and he stepped away from the mic. Callahan stood from his stool and Wilbur walked to the side of George. The three took a courteous bow and exited the stage.

Wilbur’s mood shot right back, still infuriated with his former friend. Callahan, still unaware of why he was mad and more curious as to why George choked during the song, pulled him by the collar and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Dude, George, what is up with you today? First Wilbur’s mad at you and he only ever gets mad at Tommy, you don’t talk to anyone after you practically go missing for twenty minutes, and then you skip two whole lines? Are you having boy problems? Is there hair down there?” 

Callahan never talks in public, only in private places and during emergencies, and seeing as they're in a nightclub bathroom, it seems to be an emergency.

“Callahan what the hell-”

“No, George. Tell me what’s wrong.”

George’s whole body tightens as his usually quiet friend’s volume, but then relaxes and turns behind him to lock the bathroom door. He faces Callahan again, staring down at his reindeer sweater. 

“I think I might be gay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep ending these on cliffhangers bc i dont want too much in a chapter but i also feel like it's kinda rushed? the next chapters gonna be better i swear :)


End file.
